


Consoling Asphyxiation

by irxdiscent



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Canon Compliant, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, Idols, Love, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Sad Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun, Sick Character, Sickfic, Unrequited Love, hurt jaehyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23479744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irxdiscent/pseuds/irxdiscent
Summary: "Loving you was the most exquisite form of self-destruction."Jaeyong hanahaki disease and stages of falling in love AU.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 44
Kudos: 187





	1. INCEPTION

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Before starting, welcome to my first long fic for this fandom (and ever!). It's a Hanahaki Disease AU combined with the different stages of falling in love so, the title of each chapter will refer to each of the different stages.
> 
> If any of you want to check out the trailer for this fic you can find it on: [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/irxdiscent/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/irxdiscents)
> 
> Now, it would mean a lot if you could tell me what you think and in which things I need to improve on as English isn't my first language. Constructive criticism is always welcome, just don't forget to be respectful. 
> 
> **Warnings: There are explicit mentions and descriptions of blood and sickness so please be careful.**
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this little story as much as I did writing it ❤️.

**INCEPTION**

/ɪnˈsɛpʃ(ə)n/

_noun_

the establishment or starting point of an institution or activity.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Jaehyun kept his eyes trained on the gracefully strong figure that stood in front of the group, as he followed the steps of the choreography. You could say he was completely enraptured by the way the other moved his body along with the music blaring from the speakers. Every beat, every melody, transmitted an electrifying current through his muscles, where art and dance became one.

There he was, staring at pastel pink hair that fell neatly over porcelain skin and fiery eyes narrowed in concentration. Perfect lips, straight nose and a jawline that could have cut steel encompassed Lee Taeyong. Or, in other words, the object of Jaehyun's current and, to be completely honest, only fixation since... well, _forever_.

They had met a few years back, when Jaehyun had been just sixteen years old. Too naive, too young and too innocent to understand the intricacies of what becoming an idol truly entailed. Their first interaction had occurred in this very same practice room—all high ceilings and mirrored walls coming together to emphasize the ample space— that had made him feel small and insecure a thousand times before but was, now, a bittersweet reminder of how far he had come.

"What are you thinking about?"

Jaehyun startled, head raising and eyes blinking rapidly while trying to shake the distracting thoughts away. He vaguely noted that everyone was either, sprawled on the ground breathing heavily, or on their way to get a water bottle from the fridge. It was break time.

"Hey!" Someone snapped their fingers and the action immediately pulled him out of his reverie. 

Johnny. It had been Johnny calling his name and trying to get his attention, according to his worried and amused expression, for quite a while. 

"Sorry, sorry," Jaehyun said hastily and looked up at the ceiling, frowning. "There's just a lot on my mind, you know?" He sighed tiredly. 

"Yeah..." Johnny sat on the floor, patting the spot beside him. "Dance practice, recording sessions and the comeback a few weeks away, all of us are feeling pressured." He continued while Jaehyun settled down.

"I—" he hesitated. 

It could be easy. All he had to do was look at his Hyung and tell him all of his troubles. Let the dam break, let go of his insecurities and stop the burden of his emotions from crashing him in its intensity. Yet, looking at Johnny's tense stance, Jaehyun couldn't bring himself to stress him out even more, especially about his feelings for Taeyong. They all had their own problems and he needed to learn to cope with his own.

Clearing his throat to dispel the tightening on his vocal cords, Jaehyun continued as though nothing had happened. 

"You-You're right. It's just getting to me." He smiled and hoped the expression didn't look as defeated as he felt. "But it's nothing. You know how I get when the comeback is so close."

Johnny stared intensely, turning his head to one side and Jaehyun couldn't help but think he resembled a puppy evaluating their new owner. Whatever Johnny had found seemed enough because he nodded and stood up lending Jaehyun a helping hand to do the same. This time, the smile Jaehyun sent his Hyung was a little more genuine. Perhaps everything was going to be fine.

However, once practice had finished and Taeyong motioned for Jaehyun to stay behind he knew that everything was, in fact, _not going to be fine_. 

Jaehyun walked towards the center of the room and faced Taeyong, who raised an eyebrow and shoved Jaehyun's shoulder jokingly.

"Oh, c'mon!" Taeyong exclaimed, "stop looking at me like that." 

"Like what?" Jaehyun said and the toothy grin Taeyong gave him was enough to make his heart feel lighter. 

"Like I broke your vinyl record player or something like that."

"Believe me, if that ever happened I wouldn't even look at you." 

Taeyong, continuing their weird game, gasped and fell to the floor while clutching his chest in apparent pain.

"Ouch, that hurt."

Jaehyun shook his head and laughed heartily as he helped Taeyong up. Their eyes met and Jaehyun took a second to savor the peace that being with Taeyong brought him. Fondness threatened to spill out of him but he swallowed it down and let himself be led to the corner where he sat down for the second time that day. What was it with deep talks and questioning Jaehyun today? 

"So..." Taeyong started, glanced at him and then returned his gaze to the front. "I know you've been holding back, you've been quieter and more distant." Taeyong took hold of Jaehyun's hand and released a deep breath. "I'm not saying this because I'm the leader. You know I care about you and you're important to me. To _us_." He squeezed Jaehyun's fingers. "You don't have to tell us if you don't want to but we all want you to know we're here if you need to talk it out." 

Something about the sincerity dripping from his words made Jaehyun's eyes fill with tears. He berated himself for being a sentimental fool and blinked rapidly to prevent any crying.

"Thank you." Jaehyun murmured and even though it was said so softly, the gratitude resonated like a plea for help in a silent night; hidden yet strong enough for those who were looking for it. 

"There's no need to thank me. Just keep what I said in mind." Taeyong patted Jaehyun's hair and gestured for the exit. "Let's go. Everyone must be waiting for us."

And it was incredibly sappy but maybe Jaehyun had been destined to fall in love in the same place it had all started. Because right there, in that very same practice room as Taeyong walked ahead, Jaehyun felt his heart clog with honey and sticky sugar cling to his throat. 

The moment they all arrived home, Jaehyun excused himself and, feigning nonchalance, he went to the bathroom. Once the door was closed and locked, he put his hands on the sides of the sink and before he could even breathe, a single cough escaped him. And there, right in front of his eyes, lay a lonely petal. It was yellow and soft to the touch and Jaehyun thought it was strangely beautiful, setting aside the fact that it had come from him. 

Acacia blossom. Concealed love. How _fitting_.

Jaehyun closed his eyes and hoped against hope that it was all a nightmare.


	2. INFATUATION

**INFATUATION**

/ɪnˌfatʃʊˈeɪʃ(ə)n/

_noun_

a feeling of foolish or obsessively strong love for, admiration for, or interest in someone or something.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

The yellow blossoms kept coming at irregular intervals. It certainly wasn't a frequent, much less painful, thing. However, it was decidedly uncomfortable. The sensation was similar to eating too much sugar and not being able to swallow properly.

It was Hanahaki. 

He had Hanahaki disease. 

A condition in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from unrequited love. That could only mean one thing, Taeyong didn't return his feelings or maybe he did but to know Jaehyun had to confess and that was out of the question.

He read about it. About this illness that he had thought fictional but was very much real and affected less than 10% of the population. Of course, Jaehyun, as per usual, was part of this select group of people. 

Tirelessly, he searched for cures, treatments, medicine, _anything_ he could get his hands on. Jaehyun was so desperate, he even consulted comics about it, you know, a mystical remedy for a mystical disease.

He found two cures.

One was surgery.

It was simple enough and he would have undergone the procedure if the petals once removed wouldn't take his fondness for Taeyong away with them. Jaehyun couldn't imagine living in a world without the feelings of adoration and admiration he had come to develop for the other man. Just like that, everything would disappear to never return.

Or, he could choose the other option.

Death.

He refused to believe in the latter. He was in the early stages of the disease. It was still surreal and sweet, it was poetic, pretty, a beautiful way to say goodbye. There was no blood or tears, no sleepless nights or choking fears. It wasn't the story of a love so strong it killed. A love so genuine that flowers bloomed in your lungs to create a bouquet that would never be received. 

Not yet.

All Jaehyun needed to do was stop being so melodramatic and suck it up. He had Hanahaki, so what? It was not as though everyone had to know and there weren't enough documented cases to conclude he would die straight away. Maybe he would be the exception and... Yeah, no... Best not to think about it. 

Jaehyun walked out of his room and headed to the kitchen. Brooding wasn't doing him any good. Might as well eat something to see if this time the syrupy flavor at the back of his throat would go away. Not that it would. The stupid disease was quite a permanent dilemma but since when had he cared about science? Exactly, never.

The light on the kitchen was turned on, the amazing smell of home-made noodles permeating the air and it downed on Jaehyun how hungry he really was. So, speeding up his pace, Jaehyun entered the kitchen and encountered Taeyong carefully removing a big pot from the stove. 

"You arrived just in time!" Taeyong said. "Help me set the table?"

Jaehyun replied by grabbing a stack of plates from the counter to take them to the dining room. "I'll call everyone down while I'm at it." He finally voiced from the other room, which he deemed safe from Taeyong's captivating gaze.

No matter how many weekly team dinners they had had, Jaehyun always found himself smiling at how frantic and over the place they always were. It was a familiar tradition, a healthy custom for he could unwind from his hectic schedule and just... relax. 

Although relaxing too much wasn't acceptable either. Not when Jaehyun's eyes strayed to Taeyong being too perfect for his own good. His team leader was so intent on making sure everyone was eating first, on listening to their stupid complaints and laugh along with their silly jokes. He would give anybody his undivided attention, hanging from the very words falling from the other person's lips. In all honesty, Jaehyun thought that was an honor in itself.

And all of that was without counting his physical appearance, which was an angelic sight. How could he be so adorable yet so fierce? How could someone be so perfect and selfless? How could Taeyong be such a— there it was. Stronger than ever. That sickly sweetness extending from his chest and ending on his mouth. Jaehyun pushed his half-finished noodles away, all appetite gone. 

"Are you gonna finish that, Hyung?" Haechan asked.

Jaehyun shook his head and before he handed the plate to the younger, he felt Johnny's calculative gaze on him.

"Jaehyun," called Johnny in such a serious tone that all banter stopped and everyone turned their heads towards him, "have you been feeling sick?" Johnny raised an eyebrow challengingly, daring him to lie.

Jaehyun internally snorted. Hit the nail on the head with that one, didn't he? Jaehyun didn't need to be reminded of his weirdness, he knew it was all a matter of time _thankyouverymuch_. 

"Not at all, Hyung." He said through clenched teeth. "I told you already, I'm just knackered." The warning was clear in his voice, _back off_.

"That was two weeks ago!" Apparently, Johnny didn't understand there were boundaries. 

"Oh? So now I'm not allowed to feel tired?" The sarcasm cut through the air like frostbite through skin. If everyone at the table hadn't been frozen before, they were now.

"What has gotten into you? You're so self-centered you won't listen to your Hyungs, huh?" The underlying current of hurt beyond the anger peeked through Johnny's words. "You're so busy playing the victim you can't see the world doesn't revolve around you, and worst of all—"

"That's enough!" Taeyong's shout echoed around the room with finality. The look he directed at Johnny was full of disappointment yet Jaehyun couldn't comprehend why that would be. Everything Johnny had said was true. The group needed him and all he had been doing for the past few weeks was whine and bring them down.

"Jae," Taeyong said after seeing the named man attempting to make himself smaller by hunching his shoulders and lowering his head, "you know he didn't mean it, right?" The reassurance was uttered softly, quietly as to not startle Jaehyun and his quickly beating heart. 

Jaehyun had to physically stop himself from heaving by clenching his fists, the sweetness had become unbearable. 

"I- I'm heading to bed." He choked out, biting on his lower lip to stop the sobs —and most probably petals— from escaping his trembling body. "I can't deal with this right now."

The silence he left behind was anything but comforting, like the blooms sticking to his throat and currently stealing his breath. He had to let them go and when he did, in the confines of his room, the yellow was overpowered by the alluring pink of infatuation. Gladiolus petals. 

_Fuck._

The second stage of Hanahaki had begun and Jaehyun could do nothing other than let tears fall.


	3. CRYSTALLIZATION

**CRYSTALLIZATION**

/krɪstələˈzeɪʃn/

_noun_

stage in which someone begins to develop a clear picture of not only their love's strengths but also their faults. 

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Jaehyun rested his head on one of the van's windows as the landscape became a blur in front of his eyes. The lack of sleep due to The Dinner Fight (yes, with caps and all) and Taeyong invading his thoughts every night, had lead Jaehyun to a permanent state of absolute exhaustion. More so than he already had been.

About a week had passed since The Dinner Fight and the team wasn't fairing much better either. Interactions were measured and awkward, filled by constant looks bouncing between Johnny and Jaehyun, all waiting to see who would apologize first. Taeyong was the least subtle about it, Jaehyun had caught him pushing Johnny in his direction and scolding him under his breath more times than he could count.

It was very thoughtful and considerate, especially when Taeyong stayed up with him until the early hours of the morning and he was so... _there_. Thus, the night became a welcoming company, a well-crafted silence, a meaningful conversation through tender touches, and rhythmic breathing.

It happened in those hours they had away from the world, with only the stars watching, the moment in which Jaehyun finally opened his eyes to who Lee Taeyong genuinely was. Not that it changed much, in the end, it just made it worse.

Taeyong wasn't perfect, oh he was beautiful, attentive, and ethereal. However, people tended to forget that he was human. Marred and broken in his own way, holding onto what he could while fighting against the cruelty of the universe.

Everything came down to the little things. Like the scars Taeyong had on his lower abdomen and under his right eye, both of which were a clear mark of childhood diseases and carelessness. There were also those days in which, instead of resting, he would go to the studio and dance for hours on end, coming home drenched in sweat and a new set of bruises on his knees.

"Why do you do that to yourself, Hyung?" Jaehyun had asked one of those times.

"Sometimes you have to give more than hundred percent." Taeyong responded with a strange glint in his eyes.

"But you already do."

The older had smiled brightly at that and caressed the nape of Jaehyun's neck, silently thanking him. Sadly, the weight that rested on his shoulders didn't lessen.

His leader, his friend, his more-than-just-a-crush was _too much_. Taeyong was too loyal, too caring, too hard-working, too self-deprecating. He was so innately good that no matter how many rocks you threw his way, he would pick them up, beaten body and all, and build a house for you to live in because they were your stones after all.

Hence, Jaehyun could never bring himself to be the one to take that house and destroy it with the vines wrapping around his heart. He wouldn't be the weeds piercing through gravel until only pebbles were left. He wasn't that selfish.

Jaehyun sighed.

Loving Taeyong was so overwhelmingly addicting, so elatedly painful it was akin to being underwater and having the option to resurface yet choosing not to. How could he? How could he leave the ocean after realizing how calming it was? How could he walk away from the sea once he had seen its surface ripple and gleam with light? He may be drowning but if the waves felt like home he preferred to die with water —or well, _flowers_ — rather than emptiness in his lungs.

Right there, on the way home, with the lull of the roaring motor and the heavy realization that he was in love, Jaehyun fell asleep.

\---------------

When he woke up, it was already dark outside. Everyone was getting out of the van and Jaehyun groggily followed. Once he was standing on concrete, he felt a wave of dizziness hit him and he swore the floor was looking way too close for it to be safe.

Jaehyun closed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact that never came as a strong pair of arms wrapped around his middle, keeping him upright. He could barely register the pleas to open his eyes. His airways felt restricted, his lungs being squeezed so hard all air got knocked out of him. And no, the hands around his waist weren't the cause.

"Jae," that voice, _Taeyong's voice_ , broke through the mist in his mind, "Johnny's going to take you inside but I need you to help. Can you do that?"

Jaehyun wanted to say no. No, he couldn't help because flowers were blooming in his lungs and no matter what they did he was going to die. But, as usual, Jaehyun stayed silent and nodded.

The walk to the house was hell. Every step came with pitiful and painful wheezes, which increased the strain in his chest. The worst part was that he could feel the petals scratching their way up his sore throat. It wasn't sweet anymore; it wasn't much of anything other than a constant burning sensation.

God, how he wished for everything to go back to sugary. Or even better, to no disease at all.

A glass of water was pushed onto his trembling lips just as he was deposited on the sofa. Jaehyun couldn't help but be grateful for the distraction from the pain. He downed all the refreshing liquid faster than he wanted to, yet one could only prolong some conversations for a limited amount of time. This one was apparently one of those and now that the petals had stopped restricting his airways he had no excuses to leave.

"Would you care to explain what just happened out there?" Haechan was the first to speak, he had no qualms or reservations, there was no beating around the bush with him.

"I really don't know." Jaehyun murmured and he sounded so lost, so miserable to his own ears and that was probably the reason why Taeyong, who was sitting beside him, entwined their fingers.

Jaehyun's eyes trailed over everyone in the room and all he saw were worried faces staring back at him. He wanted to apologize so badly. He was sorry, _so sorry_ , for putting his second family through this undeserved turmoil. He was going to die and they didn't, _no_ , couldn't know. Because cowardice won over guilt and he had already shamelessly admitted to himself that he was a coward.

The great Jung Yoon Oh wasn't able to confess his feelings to the love of his life, he wasn't brave enough to tell his closest friends that his time was running out; he couldn't look in the mirror due to being scared of who would be staring back... And wasn't that pathetic?

However, just as Jaehyun was about to plunge into another pool of dark thoughts, Johnny broke the silence.

"Jae, if this is because of what I said, I need you to know I didn't mean it. I was just worried about you and I-I... God, I'm such a terrible friend. If you never want to talk to me again I completely understand because I should've-"

"What are you on about? Never talk to you again?" Jaehyun interrupted. "You got it all wrong. I forgave you already, from the moment I walked out. I just didn't know if you were still mad at me so I stayed away."

Like that, the underlying tension everyone had been carrying dissipated into thin air and gave room to relief. Jaehyun felt, rather than saw, Johnny stepping closer and bringing him in for a hug. His hands automatically clenched onto the taller man's shirt, returning the gesture fiercely.

He had missed this. The comfort of his second family was a constant in his life and having that disrupted by a stupid fight was, not uncommon, but quite frustrating.

"Not that I want to interrupt the moment or anything..." Haechan warily said, "but you know, Jaehyun-Hyung still has some explaining to do."

Jaehyun pulled away from Johnny and let himself fall back onto the sofa quite heavily. Haechan just had to ruin his plan of diverting the attention from his secret, especially when it was going so well.

Could he tell the truth? Was he strong enough to watch as their faces crumbled when he proclaimed his time was nearly up? There was no other way. He had to lie.

And so, he did. He told them they were right, that he had caught a severe fever and there was a slight chance he hadn't said anything because it would only slow down the preparations for the new album.

Jaehyun let the deceiving excuses fall from his lips, knowing how well he had played his cards. He had explained exactly what was happening... Only with a little twist or two on the real nature of his disease. This seemed to placate his friends (after they had assured and scolded him for staying quiet) and it was enough to give him room for his swift escape to the bathroom.

As he turned the corner, his gaze collided with Taeyong's disappointed frown and something inside his lungs shot up, as though searching for sunlight in the midst of a storm, hunting for a garden to burn in honor of unrequited love.

He knew, deep down, what it meant. Hence, he sheltered within white tiles and a porcelain sink that had become his new sanctuary. He couldn't help but think it was eerily similar to when everything had started; to the moment he had coughed his first petal. The melancholy that settled in his bones at that thought, rattled his broken soul and dislodged a cough from crystal bones.

One cough was enough to bring a tandem of them with it. One, two, three, four, and now he was choking, struggling to breathe as something —not quite a petal, it hurt too much to be one— clogged his airways. His brain screamed for oxygen, his throat for release, and his eyes for light.

He was going to pass out. Hell, his vision was tunneling out and he couldn't even tell left from right... or was it up from down? He clutched at the sink and as he was about to give up, he felt it. The bile rising up and up and up until he gagged and whined from how he felt his throat being torn apart.

When he was sure nothing more wanted to come out he opened his eyes and the sight that greeted him was enough to make him wish he had actually passed out.

There were no more petals, no more softness, and fragility. Buds, very much tangible and real, and breaking apart gardenia buds had stolen the air from his lungs. They had done it so cautiously, so alluringly like the secret love their startling white embodied.

The flowers weren't wrong. He would take his love for Taeyong to the grave, before damaging their friendship... He was going to die anyway, better spare the guilt and suffering that'll come with his passing if the truth came out.

With the third stage carving buds across his ribs, Jaehyun promised himself he would keep his love caged and silenced just as Hanahaki had done with him.


	4. DESIRE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while listening to ["Happy Face" by Tate McRae](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IGCUmv0dtNE), I would recommend listening to it while reading this chapter.

**DESIRE**

/dɪˈzʌɪə/

_noun_

a strong feeling of wanting to have something or wishing for something to happen.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

It turned out that Jaehyun had underestimated the strength of his feelings for the thousandth time in the past month. He had already admitted to himself that he was in love with Taeyong; wasn't that supposed to be enough? Shouldn't he be able to stop thinking about him? Sure, it couldn't be that easy but still, he hadn't expected it to be so difficult.

Jaehyun was tired. Again. And he was tired of feeling tired.

All he wanted to do was stay under his bedcovers from sunrise to sunset to ignore the white buds and scattered petals piling up on the floor. Just like he had been doing ever since the comeback was postponed. However, he knew it was only a matter of time before someone hauled him up from his room for practice.

Fucking hell. The burning in his lungs was not ignorable, the buds came more often and he was so scared of how his feelings only seemed to be getting deeper and deeper. The garden in his heart was spreading its roots; carving, digging, clutching, and thriving in search of a lost cause, of Taeyong's light.

The worst part was that he wasn't even mad about it. You could even call him a masochist because a small part of him enjoyed the pain his love brought. It was a constant reminder of how intense his feelings were, of how Taeyong deserved to be cherished even though it was from the sidelines.

Jaehyun's heart ached with a longing so fierce it made it hard to breathe. He closed his eyes and concentrated on inhaling and exhaling at a constant pace, yet all he could sense were petals brushing against his trachea, roots wrapping over his ribs, and the unmistakable sting in his throat, signaling another coughing fit.

He let it happen. Yearning, wishing that when all of this was over, he could open his eyes to Taeyong's presence. Not that that was never the case, but it was still a nice notion. Fingers treading through his disheveled hair giving him something to focus on other than the pain... Beautiful doe-like eyes searching his own and grounding his messy thoughts... Cherry lips mouthing words of comfort against the shell of his ear... God, he was head-over-heels for that man, emotions touching the clouds and unwilling to come back down.

There was a knock on his door and with practiced ease, Jaehyun shoved all of the visible petals under his covers before mumbling a barely audible "come in".

Jaehyun was met with Johnny's beaming face and he couldn't help but think who in the world was that happy in the mornings. Then he spotted the coffee mug Johnny was holding and everything clicked into place.

"Oh my god, please, five more minutes." Jaehyun groaned.

"Rise and shine, Jae." Johnny taunted while opening the curtains and blinding Jaehyun in the process.

"I hate you," the younger mumbled, "why did I agree to film JCC with you?"

"Because you love me, of course!" Johnny teased back. "Now, get up. I'm leaving in an hour. With or without you." He said while calmly stepping out of the room as though he hadn't just rudely interrupted Jaehyun in his pity party.

"As if you would ever leave me behind."

"Don't test me, Jung Jaehyun," Johnny retorted after catching the not-so-subtle roll of eyes Jaehyun directed his way.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," Jaehyun whispered playfully,"I'll be down in a sec, yeah?" He was praying Johnny would just go before he had to get out of bed and petals scattered all over his room with the action.

"I'll hold you to that." And the door finally clicked close.

Well, that could've definitely gone worse. With that thought in mind, Jaehyun started to get ready for the day ahead.

\---------------

Jaehyun should've expected it. Murphy's law was no joke.

He had just entered the kitchen, dressed in all black, a cap covering his sickly expression and, oh surprise, there he found Johnny and Taeyong having a hushed conversation. They both looked up at the sound of Jaehyun's footsteps and with a grin brighter than the sun, Taeyong went to grab a plate for the younger.

Johnny handed him a cup full of steaming coffee and Jaehyun cradled the mug between his freezing fingers just as pancakes were placed in front of him. He sent a shy grin Taeyong's way and, ignoring the pang in his heart, started to eat (more like push his food around the plate) diligently.

Jaehyun observed Johnny and Taeyong continue their conversation about their plans for the day, not really listening, just enjoying the sound of their voices without having to process their meaning. Once or twice he caught Taeyong's somewhat worried gaze fall on him, and every time, he would play it cool by adding more syrup to his already mushy pile of pancakes. It was kind of sad how much he wanted to get up, hold Taeyong's hand, and kiss his frown away. But well, if that were to be the case Jaehyun wouldn't be coughing up flower petals now, would he?

"Jaehyun-ah," Johnny called, "ready to go?"

Jaehyun looked down at his destroyed breakfast, pushed the plate away, and in a swift motion got up. He adjusted the cap around his head and put on a black mask to conceal his face from view.

"Yeah," Jaehyun stuttered out, feeling a little short out of breath, "ready."

Johnny and Jaehyun were halfway to the door when hurried footsteps followed them from behind.

"Wait!" Taeyong said and Jaehyun turned around to face him. Taeyong's hand was outstretched towards Jaehyun's wrist but he hastily retracted it. Keeping his eyes on what Jaehyun presumed to be the clock on the wall and shuffling his feet awkwardly, Taeyong continued, "I need to talk with you, Jae." He redirected his gaze to Johnny, who was standing behind Jaehyun. "In private? If that's fine with you?"

And because Jaehyun was stupid and never thought anything through, he nodded.

Some of the tension on Taeyong's shoulders left and he released a breath. "Great. It won't take long, I promise."

Jaehyun followed Taeyong back to his room and sat on his bed in such a way that they were and facing each other. Now that they were alone Jaehyun fidgeted in place, looking down at his fingers and unwilling to make eye contact. He knew that if Taeyong got a look at his expression, the unbidden truth would come out from his lips, taking all of his dignity away.

Yes, he trusted Taeyong. Jaehyun trusted him with his life, or what remained of it. But he couldn't trust Taeyong to not blame himself if he knew what he had (unwillingly, mind you) caused. They knew and understood each other alright, seven years of being in the entertainment industry tended to build unbreakable bonds. It also taught Jaehyun to go with his instincts, and right now they were screaming at him to keep his mouth shut and avoid getting rejected. That way he might be able to live some extra weeks and... Yes, okay. He got it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jaehyun saw the way Taeyong's knee was bouncing up and down before he spoke. "I really don't know where to start," Taeyong breathed out, hand moving to mess up his pink locks, "everything is just... complicated."

Jaehyun removed his mask and let out a strained smile. "You tell me."

The laugh that resounded around the room after that was devoid of emotion. "How is it that we always end up in this predicament?"

He shrugged and kept looking at the mask in his hands. "I don't know."

"You've been saying that an awful lot lately," by the way Taeyong's voice lowered Jaehyun could already tell, this wasn't going to end nicely, "why can't you trust us?"

Jaehyun reared back, how could Taeyong suggest such a thing? His gaze was finally directed at the man in front of him in outrage, "I DO trust you! Wha—"

"Then act like it!" Taeyong leaned closer to Jaehyun, "we can't help you if you don't tell us what's bothering you."

"Have you considered the possibility that maybe there's nothing bothering me?" Jaehyun's chest tightened and his hands clenched into fists.

Taeyong's eyes were looking glassier by the second and this time, he was the one to pull back.

"Don't _do_ that."

"Do what?"

"Lie," Taeyong uttered.

All the fight left Jaehyun's body and he slumped forward. He had been deceiving his friends for weeks. Jaehyun had supposedly taken long trips to the gym when in reality he'd been stuck at the toilet vomiting flowers; he had spent entire nights awake listening to his stomach growl in hunger after skipping dinner because 'he wasn't hungry'. What could he say to that?

"I didn't—"

"C'mon, give me more credit than that, would you?" Taeyong shook his head and brought his legs close to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. "I'm not here to accuse you of anything," Taeyong must've seen something in Jaehyun's expression as he raised one hand in a placating gesture, "I _promise_ I'm not blaming you."

"Thanks?"

"What I wanted to say is I'm sorry."

Well, that took a twist.

"What?" Jaehyun's voice was soft, tone disbelieving. "For what?"

"For everything? I don't know, I should've been there for you and now I feel like you're slipping away and I—" Taeyong cleared his throat and straightened up, letting go of his legs. "I just wanted to make you feel comfortable enough to talk about what's wrong."

"But you have always been by my side," Jaehyun mumbled. "You're here now."

"And what good did that do? You—"

"I'm _fine_ ," Jaehyun said defensively.

"You're not and that's exactly the problem!" Taeyong was now standing, pacing over the carpeted floor, hands gesturing wildly. "We have noticed. You've been lacking energy, you're even more reserved, you're not _yourself_."

"People change, Hyung. There's no need to be paranoid."

"I like to believe that people change for the better."

Jaehyun got up and grabbed Taeyong's arm to keep him in place. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Take it as you will." Taeyong stepped back, looking so small and defeated Jaehyun nearly took him back into his arms. "I'm trying Jaehyun-ah, I really am."

"I know." Jaehyun felt the air enter his lungs, making them expand and freeze in place, it was getting more painful for him to draw a breath.

Taeyong gave him one last glassy look and heaved a sigh.

"When you're ready to talk, you know where to find me." And, like that, Taeyong left the room.

The door closed behind him. Jaehyun stood motionlessly, stunned, and trying to process what in the world had just occurred. He turned around, set on following Taeyong to apologize. As it happened, a sharp pain stabbed at his side and the ice, that had been burning in his lungs mere seconds ago, shattered.

Jaehyun's chest twisted and tightened as he wheezed and hacked, hand in front of his mouth. He fell to the ground with a dull thud and tried to get up, leaning most of his weight on his forearms and knees. He emitted a strained gasp and the akin sensation of a knife tearing his insides apart pulsed within him. His body started trembling with effort, his right cheek met the floor harshly. There was not much Jaehyun could do other than squeeze his eyes shut and will the pain away—oh god, he was coughing, _asphyxiating_. The prospect of dying had never seemed more real.

Then he tasted it.

Metallic, tangy, sharp. It was warm and burning, overflowing and traveling up Jaehyun's esophagus in search of an out.

It stung.

Jaehyun curled up, arms over his stomach as hot tears caught on his eyelashes. A last cough left his cracked lips, but Jaehyun felt too drained to open his eyes. He slowly rolled over to face the ceiling and tried to steady his breathing. Once he was back in control, he craned his neck and was met with orange rose petals, bright, stunning, and spelling out desire.

A shiver traveled down his spine and he took one of the petals in his hand, bringing it close to his face to examine it. It was smooth, delicate, yet what caught Jaehyun's attention were the crimson splatters marring the sunset orange.

Blood.

He hastily shoved the flowers under his bed and disregarding the way his stomach dropped, made himself presentable again. Ignoring the blooming bruise on his cheekbone and red-rimmed eyes, he put the mask back on and sighed. Another lie he would have to add to the list.

Jaehyuns's phone beeped, signaling it was time to go film JCC. With one last look in the mirror, he ran back to the living room. Johnny gestured towards the front door and Jaehyun followed. When Johnny asked him about the bruise, Jaehyun just blamed it on his clumsiness.

If he forgot about it, it meant it didn't happen, right?

_Right?_

\---------------

"So I told them that I wanted to show the behind the scenes of our comebacks and they agreed! What do you think about it?" Johnny explained excitedly, posture laid back and comfortable.

They had just finished filming JCC's episode and decided that it would be a good idea to go drink some coffee before meeting with the group later for practice. The café they had chosen was one of Jaehyun's favorite: quiet, secluded, and cozy.

"It's a great idea," Jaehyun answered while taking a sip from his Iced Americano, "I mean, fans love knowing all of these details and we also learn from documenting it all."

"Exactly," Johnny replied, lips quirking up into a small but meaningful smile, "thank you for coming today. Any suggestions for the upcoming episodes?"

Well, Jaehyun considered that telling him how annoying the stylists had been wouldn't be really polite. It wasn't as though it was Johnny's fault and he couldn't do anything about it. He vividly remembered one of the designers telling him he couldn't continue losing so much weight because they couldn't afford to change the measurements for the third time in a row. How funny, if they only knew that those measurements wouldn't be needed at all maybe they would be more tactful.

Jaehyun should really stop thinking like that.

"How about... Something related to the albums. You've done fashion and they already know about the recording process," Jaehyun said and rearranged his seat to pay more attention to his surroundings.

Johnny pondered his answer and nodded slowly, "I could definitely work with that, thanks."

Jaehyun shrugged and munched on ice, not necessarily eager on opening another conversation topic.

"Did you talk to Taeyong?" Johnny questioned suddenly. His coffee cup rested on the table between them, and Johnny made no move to take it. It was that serious, huh?

"There was nothing to talk about." Jaehyun's tone laid flat, brooked for no argument.

"Oh, really?" Johnny's whole stance changed, back straight, eyes narrowed, "because eight people think otherwise."

"Well, they're _wrong_." At this point, Jaehyun didn't care if he sounded like a pouting child, why couldn't they take a hint and leave it alone?

"Jaehyun-ah, this has to stop." Jaehyun rolled his eyes at that statement. For the love of God, he wasn't three years old. "Taeyong has been worried sick. He thinks it's his fault. You know how he is."

Yes, he knew. However, he was incredibly aware of what was at stake. He had never wanted to make Taeyong feel guilty, thus, he hadn't told him about his disease. Even then, Taeyong still found another way to blame himself and Jaehyun was just so tired. Why couldn't one thing go right in his miserable life?

Jaehyun didn't dignify Johnny with an answer, he didn't have the energy to muster one anyways. He pushed his chair away from the table, a little more forcefully than necessary, and made a bee-line for the bathroom.

Unrequited love, Jaehyun learned, was as beautiful as it was deadly. Especially when he was retching his heart out in a public bathroom. Maybe the roses would be his demise, with those thorns opening him up from the inside out, biting and taking away his sanity, nailing and pinching with lethal brutality.

"What the fuck?"

Jaehyun tilted his head up and caught Johnny's gaze in the mirror as he coughed another (and final) time, blood drops staining the hand that had come up to cover his mouth. Apparently, his body reacted quicker than his mind as he opened the water the faucet and washed away all traces of red from the petals and his skin, just before Johnny could notice them.

The adrenaline abruptly vanished, leaving him vulnerable enough that tears started falling, unwanted, unsolicited, but so very present. Façade crumbling and knees trembling Jaehyun slid to the ground and sobbed. Johnny was by his side in an instant, rubbing circles against his back.

"Jaehyun, who is it?" Johnny said shakily, voice cracking along with Jaehyun's fortitude.

Jaehyun shook his head and hid his face between his knees, crying even harder.

"Jae, I need you to tell me. _Please_ ," Johnny sounded so desperate and Jaehyun couldn't take it anymore, "who is it?"

Everything was too much, too fast.

"P-promise you won't tell him?" Jaehyun stuttered in between hiccups and sniffles.

"Him? Is it one of—"

"Promise me." Jaehyun pleaded, kneeling in front of Johnny's crouched figure.

"I can't— This is— it's killing you!" Johnny took him by the shoulders and shook him softly, as if that would knock some sense into him, "I'll do anything in my power to not let that happen. There's surgery and if searching for this person and telling them is what it takes, then that's that."

"And if I don't want you to do that? Just—" Jaehyun's chin wobbled, all of his defenses getting washed away by salty tears "— I can't live without loving him. I don't want to."

"Jae..." Johnny sat in front of him and enveloped him in a hug.

"No, listen." Jaehyun pulled back and used the sleeves of his sweater to wipe the tears away. 

"I love Taeyong. I love him so much that if I ever stopped I wouldn't be myself." Jaehyun realized how true that was after saying it. Hence, he kept going, determined to make Johnny _see_. "He-he's become an essential presence, a part of me that pushes me to be better and I can't give that up. You can't ask that of me. It's my last wish. Don't make me do it."

Johnny inhaled sharply, expression crumbling in its entirety.

"But... You'll die."

"And that's my choice." Jaehyun smiled brokenly, but Johnny could see it, in the way he held himself, in his twinkling eyes, he was at peace with that fact.

"Does it hurt?"

"No more than it would if I stopped loving him."

It was then, on the cold tiles of a public bathroom, that understanding dawned on Johnny. Nothing he said or did would sway Jaehyun's decision. 

"What about Taeyong?" Johnny said, a last and despairing attempt before accepting Jaehyun's last wish.

"He doesn't need to know."

Love was irrational, powerful, all-consuming and so fucking unfair.


	5. JEALOUSY

**JEALOUSY**

/ˈdʒɛləsi/

_noun_

state or feeling of being envious or of wanting what someone else has.

•••••••••••••••••••••

After his discussion with Taeyong, Jaehyun hadn’t expected that his entire world would be thrown off orbit (not that it wasn’t already falling to pieces).

They had had worse fights in the past, complete with screaming matches and flying insults. But here was the thing about their friendship: they never stayed mad at each other for more than a few hours, always talking it all out before going to bed. It was simple, uncomplicated, forgive, and forget. 

Whatever was going on between them didn’t come even close to a real fight yet, the unsettling cold feeling resting on Jaehyun’s stomach left him uneasy. So, that night he waited in his room for Taeyong to show up. He sat on the freezing floor in front of his window with thin pajamas and unblinking city lights being his only companions in his solitude. 

Jaehyun looked up at the sky and admired the blackness threatening to swallow the world, acknowledging that not even the stars deigned to shine for a soul that was living on borrowed time. A rueful grin pulled at his lips, a treacherous mask created in an attempt to convince himself that… that what? There were still so many goals he wanted to achieve, dreams he wanted to live, promises he wanted to keep…people he wanted to love. 

And it all came back to that, it all came back to love. 

Jaehyun wished he could tell Taeyong how much it hurt; how difficult it was to wake up in the morning knowing that it could be the last day he got to appreciate Taeyong’s existence. He yearned for him to understand that love and despair came in the same package and once the seed had been planted there was no going back. His body would become the personification of spring, where havoc was reaped and every blooming flower dripped for him. 

Sadly, he had accepted his faith, accepted that Taeyong was all he ever wanted and would never have. Taeyong deserved to be free, to have the chance to spread his wings and fly without the fear of what his absence would cause. Jaehyun, with his broken and tattered feathers, was only chaining him down. He had to let it go. Or rather, never let Taeyong know about Hanahaki. 

When the clock struck midnight, Jaehyun debated on being the one to search for Taeyong but, quickly discarded the option. He didn’t want to be a bother.

Maybe he was reading too much into the situation and tomorrow everything would be fine. All that was left for him to do was to lay down on his bed and sleep, however, he made no move to do just that. Instead, he stayed put on the wooden floor, allowing the weight of the garden in his heart and lungs to suffocate him. 

\---------------

Taeyong didn’t come.

The sun had risen, high in the horizon, bathing the room in light and encouraging the roots to overtake Jaehyun’s ribs. The city came alive, cars passing by and people wandering the streets on their way to work, which prompted Jaehyun into getting ready for the day ahead. He hadn’t slept but at least he wasn’t feeling tired or cold or sad anymore. There was a strange nothingness permeating his mood, like the blanket he used to hide the petals he often coughed. 

Dance practice had never sounded less appealing and he would be lying if the thought of skipping it didn’t cross his mind. Nevertheless, that was something he had done the day before, and he couldn’t really afford another scold from the manager. He groaned in annoyance but still applied some foundation on his face to cover the dark bruise on his cheekbone, it wouldn’t do to worry everyone all over again. 

When he was done, he took his phone and walked out of the apartment, straight to the van that was waiting for everyone outside. Jaehyun chose his usual seat at the back, leaving the one beside him empty for Taeyong like he did every morning. Obviously, this morning was very different from the rest, if the way Taeyong sat next to Doyoung didn’t make it very clear. It wasn’t a big deal, it _shouldn’t_ be a big deal but… well, receiving a reassuring nod and weak smile in lieu of the familiar hug and hair ruffle from Taeyong was certainly off-putting. 

They were okay. It was all going to be fine. Taeyong wasn’t mad, he just needed some space.

“Doyoung-ah, for the millionth time, yes. I ate breakfast,” Taeyong exclaimed, eyebrows raised in fond exasperation, “can you please stop asking?”

Jaehyun’s ears perked up and immediately all of his attention was directed at the pair sitting at the front.

“You know why I ask, you big baby.” Doyoung rolled his eyes and playfully shoved Taeyong’s shoulder, “if I don’t then, who will take care of you?” he asked while fluttering his eyelashes and framing his face with his hands.

Jaehyun knew what was coming before it happened. 

Taeyong laughed, loud and bright, grin illuminating his face like a Christmas tree. Then he hit Doyoung in the back of the head and they continued to bicker for the rest of the journey. 

“You okay?” Johnny whispered to him as they made their way to the practice room.

If circumstances were normal, Jaehyun would feel mortified about how easy it was to read him but, all of his brain-power was being consumed by the sensation of thorns curling around his clenching heart. 

So, Jaehyun simply nodded, feeling dazed and numb because, _wow_ , Taeyong hadn’t looked that happy in a long time. He appeared so alive and carefree in those moments, resembling a child blowing out the candle on his birthday cake. But, lately only frowns and slumped shoulders had followed Taeyong around.

And Jaehyun’s heart sank at the realization that he was to blame for that. He thought that maybe it was better this way, the farther Jaehyun stayed, the less he would hurt Taeyong. Doyoung would protect him where Jaehyun failed to do so. It was just hard to admit. 

To put it mildly, the rest of Jaehyun’s day sucked.

\---------------

Another week, another dose of Doyoung and Taeyong being perfect for each other. Or, in other words, _Dotae_ (that was how the fans called the pair, Jaehyun had searched it up) making everybody feel like a third-wheel and breaking Jaehyun’s heart in the process.

“Pass me the salt, would you?” Taeyong voiced, absorbed on seasoning the meat cooking on the pan.

“Here, let me—” Doyoung replied while taking the spoon from Taeyong’s hand and occupying his previous spot “— there we go. I’ll finish this. Go on and set the table.”

The three of them were making dinner together. No, wait, _Dotae_ were making dinner together. Jaehyun was sitting down on the opposite counter after offering to help and being abysmally ignored by the other two. 

Perhaps he shouldn’t have gone there.

Jaehyun felt like a trespasser, breaking into the peace of life-time friendship with nothing to offer. He didn’t belong in that dynamic, didn’t understand it, didn’t _want_ to. It always ended in pain when he did. 

“Jae, any suggestions on what to drink?” Doyoung asked, placing some ramen in a big bowl.

_Oh, so he wasn’t invisible now?_

Taeyong walked back into the kitchen, heading for the fridge and scanning its contents. “There’s grape juice.”

“Are you sure it isn’t wine?” Doyoung teased, and it dawned on Jaehyun how quickly the conversation moved on without him. 

\---------------

Every so often, Jaehyun liked to pretend that Doyoung wasn’t there.

He felt horrible about it yet; he didn’t know how else to cope. It was the only thing he could do to keep himself together during schedules.

It was easy to pretend whenever Taeyong brought him a bottle of water and patted his arm in silent comfort. It wasn’t as if Doyoung was right there too (although, he was).

Somehow, these little moments slowly crept onto the list of his most cherished memories.

Until he opened his eyes and saw Doyoung carrying Tayeong’s bag, or buying his favorite coffee, or tickling his sides.

Jaehyun swallowed the metallic and bitter taste, that he had become accustomed to in the past week, after realizing that Taeyong didn’t need him anymore, didn’t even need him, to begin with. Taeyong wasn’t going to waste more of his precious time on some kid suffering from unrequited love and dying—

It was what Jaehyun wanted. 

Right. His plan had worked.

But then… why did it feel like he lost?

\---------------

Apparently, Jaehyun wasn’t the only one that had taken notice of _Dotae’s_ closeness. It wasn’t new, they had been best friends since pre-debut and all of the members were used to their antics. What made it so different on this occasion, was the fact that even in the public eye they were attached at the hip. 

“You two seem to get along pretty well. Since when have you known each other?” One host had asked the pair in one of the thousand interviews the group had to attend. From then on, things blew up.

Jaehyun wasn’t stupid. He was very familiar with the way in which fans seemed to absorb and analyze their interactions. It was great that they cared about the comfort and closeness of the members but, sometimes, it got a bit too much. NCT was his family. It had been ever since Jaehyun stepped a foot into SM’s building. There was no need to question their inner jokes or boundaries.

Naturally, the company caught wind of how much the fans wanted Taeyong and Doyoung together. Being part of the entertainment industry only meant that they would deliver.

V-lives, variety shows, paired interviews, YouTube videos, in the span of a month _Dotae_ had done it all. The magnificent ‘Tom and Jerry’ duo was back with a vengeance and nothing, no one, could stop them.

“Honestly, though, I never thought the fans would love us that much,” Taeyong said on one of their team dinners.

Jaehyun nodded, reaching over the table for some radish that he wasn’t planning to eat. Was it really that surprising that everyone loved Taeyong and Doyoung? They were both sweet, funny, handsome… The epitome of powerful. 

This made Jaehyun feel worse. 

“It’s quite funny though, have you seen the memes?” Johnny blurted out and everyone laughed.

Jaehyun felt Johnny pat his knee in what he thought was reassurance and, for once, he wished the other would just ignore him again. 

\---------------

“You know those two aren’t together, right?” Johnny whispered to him in the middle of one of the members’ occasional movie marathons.

Jaehyun examined the room before responding. Mark, Haechan, and Yuta were sharing the big couch, with Taeil settled on the floor with some blankets. Doyoung and Taeyong were the farthest from Jaehyun and Johnny, sprawled on a pile of pillows and immersed in whichever movie the TV screen was playing. Jaehyun deemed it safe enough to continue the conversation in hushed tones. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Jaehyun said, glancing at Taeyong’s relaxed form.

“Jaehyun, what the—” Johnny was baffled, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process what to say next and looking like a fish out of water in the meantime “—you can’t be serious.”

“Well, sorry to break it to you but, I’m dead serious. Look at them!” Jaehyun subtly gestured with his hand to the direction of the now cuddling pair. 

“You and I both know that them cuddling doesn’t mean they’re automatically dating,” Johnny retorted and nodded his head no to punctuate his point, “you’re jumping to conclusions.”

“Let’s say you’re right.” Jaehyun narrowed his eyes and clenched his teeth in frustration. “What does that change? I’m still in love and he doesn’t return the feelings, _end of the story_.”

“How do you know he doesn’t return the feelings if you never confess?” Johnny’s calm composure never faltered and that only unnerved Jaehyun even more.

“We’ve gone over this already,” Jaehyun sighed, eyes back on Taeyong, taking in the way in which the light from the TV cast shadows on his serene face, “I’m not going to be the reason he blames himself once… once all of this is over.”

“And I don’t want to bury my best friend.”

The statement hit Jaehyun like a punch to the stomach and he emitted a gasp. Those words transfigured into pools of sharp crystals, close enough to puncture his skin but sufficiently far to not make him bleed. A shallow wound, that soon enough would become lethal, woven onto the creases of his muscles and pulling at his guilt.

This wasn’t fair. He never wanted to hurt anyone.

“I’m so—”

“Could you two please shut it?” Haechan whined, head tilted and hands gesturing wildly in annoyance. 

Jaehyun looked at Johnny for one last time, eyes pleading for him to understand what was at stake, and stood quickly from his seat. 

“I’m going to get more popcorn,” Jaehyun mumbled, somehow expecting someone to ask him to stay. No one did, so he made his way to the kitchen, feet dragging across the floor. 

He didn’t realize he was crying until the microwave signaled the popcorn was done. 

\---------------

Jaehyun couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t breathe. 

But Jaehyun could cry, could ache, could bleed.

The proof was right there, in front of his weakened body. 

A toilet filled to the brim with ruined flowers and weeds, floating in a red ocean of tortured thoughts.

He didn’t have that much time left, not when marigolds had been added to the list of flowers growing in his garden. 

They were yellow, too, like the acacia blossoms of concealed love. This time, however, it was jealousy running through his veins, frantic and threading through the carefully cultivated meadows in his chest. Frenzied and giving away to a more visceral and wrecked forest. 

No, jealousy had never been green because it had to be as bright as it was deceiving. And what better than pretending to be the sun when burning the entire world down?

\---------------

The comeback was getting closer, expectations were high, emotions all over the place. They had been working hard, all of them. So, it was normal for them to plan a little get-together where they ate cheap take-out and reminisced on old times.

Johnny was busy telling a story about Mark and watermelon, which was surely funny and entertaining but Jaehyun wasn’t in the mood to listen. He excused himself without anyone noticing and went into his room.

It’s quiet, peaceful, and exactly what Jaehyun needed. He just wanted to be alone.

For about half an hour he stared out of the window. There was not much to see— no cars, no clouds, no twinkling lights in the distance. It was all empty, lonely, and very much reflecting how he felt.

Suddenly, the door opened and there was a voice behind him.

“Hey, Jae.”

It was Taeyong.

Jaehyun watched as Taeyong made his way over to where he was seated and took the space beside him.

“Want to explain why you disappeared for such a long time? I’m not mad but I know for a fact that the floor isn’t very comfortable so, something’s going on. Are you ready to finally talk?” Taeyong said nonchalantly, although Jaehyun could hear the concern in his voice, see it in his furrowed brows.

He was going to miss that.

“Sure,” Jaehyun voiced after a while, proud of how stable he sounded, “what do you want to know?” 

“You know what I want.”

Jaehyun supposed that he couldn’t run forever, he had to stop if he wanted to breathe. It was simply funny how the reason why he ran, was also the one stealing his oxygen supply.

“If I tell you, you’ll hate me.” Jaehyun tensed, he didn’t have much time before his disease started acting up. 

“Try me,” Taeyong challenged and the stubborn set of his jaw spoke for itself. He wasn’t going to leave.

“I’m _sick_.”

Silence hung in the air, thick and overwhelming.

“You are what?” Taeyong uttered, all color draining from his face, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

Jaehyun held his sobs and tears at bay. He wasn’t going to cry.

“I’m sick.” Jaehyun took a moment to consider what to say next. It was now or never. “I’m sick and it has got me feeling down. There’s no need for you to worry, I've been doing regular check-ups and I’m getting better.” 

Okay then, it was never.

Taeyong sat there, blank stare and completely dumbfounded.

“Wait… what is it? A cold? Jaehyun, it’s been… what? Two months?” Taeyong rushed out, turning to Jaehyun and placing one of his hands on his forehead, the other caressing the back of Jaehyun’s neck gently. 

Jaehyun wanted to die. Taeyong was going to kill him with his sweetness anyway.

“My immune system weakened and I didn’t want to worry you… It’s all fine now.”

Taeyong looked at him, eyes scanning Jaehyun’s expression in search of something. 

“You’re not telling me the whole story but… I respect your privacy,” Taeyong sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling helpless, “thank you for trusting me with this. I will always be here, you know that. At least, I hope you do.”

“I know. Thank you.” And that was _true_ and Jaehyun was _thankful_ but he was selfless and in love. 

He did what he could to cause the least amount of pain. 

If only he hadn’t ended up most of the night locked into the bathroom retching both crimson and spring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts on this new chapter? We're getting closer and closer to the end…
> 
> P.S. Jungwoo isn't mentioned in this story because it takes place around the time of his hiatus :(


	6. HELPLESSNESS

**HELPLESSNESS**

/ˈhɛlpləsnəs/

_noun_

inability to defend oneself or to act effectively.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Jaehyun had heard of it before, of how time and death were reflections of each other. Their differences subtle, nearly imperceptible, and the absolute demise of humankind. There was no room for mistakes nor compassion or patience.

Time and death were both cruel, ruthless, and thrived on playing tug of war with destiny. A measly game where the winner got a taste of victory, golden and invigorating; while the other player was left in the dust, trying to repair broken hearts born from deceptions and abandonment.

Jaehyun wasn’t even fazed when he discovered that time, death, and destiny had called an alliance just to play with him. There was no other explanation as to why, in a few months, everything he had built up until now had been plucked from its roots, leaving nothing but scars behind.

It made so much sense when he thought of it that way. Jaehyun shouldn’t have provoked destiny by falling for the wrong person and, then, refusing to follow the path that had been laid down for him since the start. The price he had to pay was high and, yet, he still fought back to get one last glance at his unrequited love.

Flesh and bones against the basis of the universe, yeah, he never stood a chance.

He was going to lose the war. Death was making sure of that. Its tendrils were wrapping around his lungs, breaking the skin below them, and streaking his body in black marks. On the other hand, time loved psychological torture. It mocked Jaehyun in the silence of the night, whispering about lost chances and wasted days, about how today might be his last tomorrow.

And that explained the bruises covering his entire torso, expanding over his larynx and tracing the course of the damned flowers. It also explained the sleepless nights, the weakness, and the constant fear of doing even the slightest thing out of place.

After all, he had become spring and a collage of torment had been plastered over him as punishment for his silence. It was only natural to live in constant pain.

If Jaehyun had to blame intangible entities for his suffering, then he was going to.

Perhaps he was delusional, too consumed by his insecurities and guilt to think logically. However, the amount of blood he had lost in the past few days was probably the cause of his paranoia. That and the fact that he was coughing full flowers, which meant that time would get restless and stop ticking for him soon.

Soon being the synonym of two weeks, of course.

According to the few documented cases, after the first bloomed flower, the patient had two weeks to live. At most.

Wasn’t that fantastic?

Jaehyun stood from the bathroom floor, ignoring the way his muscles protested the sharp movement and put away any visible evidence of his illness. He flushed the flowers down the toilet and washed off the remaining traces of blood from his face and clothes. He went through the motions with practiced ease like he had done it a thousand times before because… he had.

The good thing was that Jaehyun wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning anymore in the near future.

\---------------

Jaehyun was dying. He had made peace with that fact long ago. But being fine with it didn’t magically make him immune to fear.

Jaehyun knew about Hanahaki, was experiencing it for goodness sake, and yet, nothing compared to seeing its effects firsthand.

There was _so much blood_.

Blood in his mouth, on his hands, on the walls, lurking inside his nightmares until he was choking on red seas, inhaling iron and screaming for mercy. Raw cries for help muffled by soft petals turning into thorns and spears, stabbing at his determination to survive. Nothing was beautiful about the disease. Nothing poetic in growing a garden bathed in lakes of mild cerise liquid.

There was _fear_.

Paralyzing and hunting fear. The one that slipped through the cracks in the soil of his meadows, taking and stealing with the sole intent to destroy. It pilfered his feelings and fashioned them into sharp blades, sinking them in with crazed eyes.

There was _betrayal_.

Treason coated the words of reassurance falling from his lips. Lies hung from his dimpled smile and hidden tears. Deceive permeated the atmosphere as he tried to play down his sickly state to Johnny.

“It’s not as bad as it seems,” Jaehyun said after Johnny barged into the bathroom unexpectedly, right when the last wave of coughs ended.

Johnny’s gaze was glued to the mountain of bloody flowers on the toilet, and the longer he stared, the paler he got. Jaehyun internally winced, maybe that wasn’t the most sensible thing to say.

“Hyung…” Jaehyun mumbled, anxiously waiting for a response. He knew how horrifying the sight of him was at the moment.

Johnny gulped and slowly turned his head to look at him as if scared of what his eyes would reveal to him. Something must have been on Jaehyun’s face because as soon as Johnny saw him, he gasped and ran, scrambling over the floor to kneel beside Jaehyun and cradle him in his arms.

Johnny squeezed him tight, accidentally pressing onto the bruises decorating his torso and making Jaehyun squirm in his hold. Sensing his discomfort, Johnny let go of Jaehyun and proceeded to clean the specks of crimson from his cheeks and chin. His left hand hovered above the giant bruise on his throat, hesitating to touch.

Oh.

That was the reason why Johnny looked so close to having a mental breakdown.

“Hey, hey, Hyung…” Jaehyun whispered as he noticed the glazy eyes of his best friend, “it’s okay. I’m okay. I promise.”

He tried to stop Johnny from frantically wiping his face by gripping his wrists and forcing eye-contact, but the older wasn’t having it.

“Listen to me!” Jaehyun snapped, worried over Johnny’s behavior, “I am fine. I’m still here. I—”

_I won’t leave._

But he couldn’t promise that.

Jaehyun closed his mouth and slumped back against the wall, resigned. All fight left his body as he released Johnny’s wrists.

The silence hung in the air, serving as a reprieve for Johnny’s shocked state. From his peripheral vision, Jaehyun saw how Johnny’s hands trembled slightly, letting go of the bloody tissue as the adrenaline drained out of his system.

“I can’t do this,” Johnny finally said, gently, and then again, more firmly, “I’m sorry Jae, but I can’t let you die. Not like this.”

No. _Nononononono_. This couldn’t be happening. Johnny was supposed to stay by his side until the end, honor his last wish and make sure Taeyong lived a happy life. What had changed?

Jaehyun set his jaw stubbornly. “I thought you understood, you _told_ me—”

“ _Understood?_ What’s there to understand other than your martyr act will kill you!” Johnny let out an incredulous laugh, eyes brimming with tears. “And I won’t stay quiet because if you die, guess what? Your death would be on me.”

The thing was, Jaehyun had tried to prevent this from happening. If no one were to be aware of his illness then, there was no way for them to blame themselves. They would’ve mourned him and got on with their lives like they were expected to do. It was _logical_.

But his perfect plan was ruined, and now Johnny, his calm and centered Hyung was crying because of him. Why was Jaehyun such a fuck-up? Why did he have to break everything he touched?

“It’s not your fault,” Jaehyun said softly, trying to convey his sincerity and desperation, “I don’t blame you and never will.”

Johnny’s expression was grave as he placed a hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder. “I consider staying silent an accomplice for murder.”

Jaehyun couldn’t say anything to that and, frankly, he was done with this conversation. He was sorry, and if he could turn back time and make Johnny forget, he would have done it long ago becau—

“You have to confess,” Johnny blurted out.

Well, that was a very much unwelcome input.

“Johnny…” Jaehyun rasped, they had already established that he wouldn’t confess.

“No. I won’t watch you destroy yourself.” Johnny frowned and pursed his lips, eyes tightening around the edges in defiance. “If you don’t tell Taeyong, _I will_.”

Jaehyun had royally fucked up. He recognized the expression on Johnny’s face, and nothing good (for him, at least) ever came out of it. Jaehyun gave Johnny a pleading look but, his Hyung’s determination was endless, there was no turning back, no way to refuse. It seemed like he had to relent… how the tables had turned, he thought cynically.

“I need time,” Jaehyun sighed dejectedly.

Johnny appeared reluctant, clearly sensing that even if Jaehyun had caved, they had to negotiate. “How much?”

“A week,” Jaehyun suggested after a tense moment. “Give me a week and I’ll do it.”

“Promise?”

Jaehyun knew his beating heart wouldn’t last a week.

“Promise.”

\---------------

Three days.

Only three days left for him to either die or miraculously survive and declare his love for Taeyong.

Jaehyun was acutely aware of his extended hours of no sleep and difficulty to breathe, hence, there was little to no possibility of the latter option happening.

If he were to be honest, he’d been feeling more than a little reckless the last few days. He guessed it had something to do with his demise approaching.

Jaehyun had actually considered going up to Taeyong and just bear his heart to him, loud and clear, leaving no room for doubt. And in his rush to make the most of the time he had left, he would’ve done it. He had nothing to lose—nothing other than his pride and sanity, which were already slipping through his fingers— but he was pretty sure that Taeyong’s outright rejection would kill him on the spot and, according to his remaining common sense, that wasn’t a good idea (three days were better than none).

So he had to do the next best thing.

“Hey.”

After all, he was never as selfless as Taeyong.

“Hi.” Tayong looked up from his notebook and set his pen aside, pushing away from his desk.

Jaehyun walked into Taeyong’s room and that was when the emptiness kicked in, the loneliness he had subjected himself to crashing over him. His already labored breathing intensified and Jaehyun had to roll his shoulders and open his mouth to make up for the lack of air. His emotions were clouding his sense of rationality, and it was only fair after subduing them for months.

“I missed you,” Jaehyun stuttered, the phrase coming off awkwardly. His voice filled with repressed longing and regret. “I really missed you.”

Taeyong turned to him, eyes wide and bright, a small smile on his lips. Without saying a word, he opened his arms in a welcoming gesture and, Jaehyun melted into his embrace.

“I never left,” Taeyong whispered into his ear, hand buried into Jaehyun’s hair as he tightened his hold.

Memories rushed back to him as Jaehyun reminisced the old times where he would sleep next to Taeyong every night, sharing childhood stories and future plans, building their own story together. Their pace had been tranquil then, a life under the spotlight seeming unreachable and their only comfort being each other.

It was selfish, wanting to have that back, asking Taeyong to stay when Jaehyun had worked so hard to keep his distance and not hurt him. Yet, the damage was done. Jaehyun had been so stupid. He should’ve looked after Taeyong more, should’ve been there for him, should’ve cherished his Hyung.

Thus, Jaehyun gave in.

He clung to Taeyong and buried his face in the crook of his neck. _Just one last time_ , he told himself. One more night, and then he would make sure his plan was completed.

“I wish I had been stronger for you,” Jaehyun muttered against the fabric of Taeyong’s t-shirt, he needed to get it off his chest, that all-consuming hollowness eating him up, “I’m sorry I wasn’t.”

“But you were Jae. You were, are, and will always be so strong. It’s part of who you are.” Taeyong assured him, voice small and close to cracking. “Don’t ever think otherwise.”

Taeyong turned his head, pecked the younger’s temple, and guided them to his bed. “Sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

When they were all ready, with Jaehyun cuddled up to Taeyong, legs intertwined and arms wrapped around each other, Taeyong slowly closed his eyes and in no time, his breathing steadied.

Certain that Taeyong had fallen asleep, Jaehyun placed his hand over the other’s chest, feeling his heartbeat. “I love you,” he muttered, and something inside him shattered.

Sadly, Taeyong was too tired to notice the broken boy in his arms, the one with fresh tears glittering on his lashes.

\---------------

The members were in the corner of the practice room joking about Jaehyun’s current obsession with turtlenecks. It was all lighthearted and fun. Jaehyun wanted to laugh alongside them because, _really_ , who the hell dances in winter attire?

Someone who was covering every inch of skin in fear his friends would spot the Hanahaki induced blemishes, that was who.

Taeyong clapped his hands, gaining everyone’s attention. Today was an unsupervised dance practice, which meant that Taeyong would be the one in charge. Those were, in Jaehyun’s humble opinion, the most productive sessions as they polished all of their moves through incessantly repeating the choreography.

In conclusion, they would dance until they broke.

NCT as a whole were recognized and praised for their intricate and original choreography. It wasn’t a secret that it was incredibly tiring and the fact that on top of nailing the dance, they had stable live vocals made it more admirable. With every comeback, the pressure of reaching and surpassing those standards increased.

Usually, Jaehyun could take that pressure and mold it into energy and passion. Normally, he could keep up with the physical challenges and not dwindle a mere 40 minutes into practice. Consistently, he could be the member who encouraged the others with his sweet smile and conviction.

But recently, the simplest movements zapped his limbs and left his muscles spasming with effort.

Practice was no different.

Jaehyun’s heart was on his throat, his feet too heavy to lift from the ground, and his steps uncoordinated. He was missing beats, struggling to locate his position and feeling the worried gazes of his friends on him.

“Let’s take a ten-minute break, yeah?” Taeyong said as they finished their ninth run-through.

The leader went to stand beside Jaehyun, handing him a water bottle. “Take it easy today, you’re not looking too good.” The ever-so protective Taeyong mode was on.  
“I know my limits, Hyung,” Jaehyun hissed, taking the water bottle and gulping it down to stop himself from saying something stupid.

Taeyong wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, stalling. “I know you do… but if you need to go home, tell me and I’ll arrange it.”

Jaehyun nodded, feeling bad for how harsh he had been with his leader. “Okay.”

For the rest of the break, Taeyong stayed by his side, oblivious to how his presence was making Jaehyun’s throat burn and flowers multiply in his chest.

\---------------

Jaehyun had thought that the little rest time would be just what he needed to power through the rest of practice but, for some reason, he felt worse than before.

Sweat was pouring off him, his loose clothes sticking to his heated skin and driving him insane. Jaehyun felt heat spreading over him, starting from his chest and resulting in the loss of sensation in his legs and fingers.

This wasn’t normal.

He was about to call for Taeyong when he was hit with a wave of dizziness so strong he lost his balance and crashed to the ground. Jaehyun didn’t feel the impact, too preoccupied with trying to discern what was happening as his vision flashed white for a second. He squeezed his eyes shut, covering his ears with his arms and willing the world to stop spinning.

In his wooziness, Jaehyun barely registered his surroundings. Voices blended and echoed, too loud, and convoluted for him to piece together. When the ringing in his ears persisted, no matter how hard he tried to silence any outside noise, he gave up and placed the palms of his hands against the floor, seeking balance. He stayed there, legs folded under him as he attempted to regain some semblance of control.

But, as always, there was someone that stood out. Jaehyun could faintly hear Taeyong shouting orders… something about hospitals and giving space. He sounded miles away yet, the hand rubbing comforting circles down his back stated otherwise.

An ear-piercing cry made Jaehyun flinch in surprise, and he raised his head to find Taeyong’s horrified and ashen face, hands moving to cover his mouth.

Jaehyun trembled, coming to realize he was the cause of his Hyung’s fright.

The smell and taste of blood invaded his senses, rich and red, burning as it dripped down his chin and throat, pooling around a colorful garden of flowers. Acacia blossoms, gladiolus, gardenias, roses, marigolds, and even cyclamens. _All of them_. Scattered over the floor, painting his resignation and last goodbye.

This was it.

Jaehyun’s bouquet had been arranged to spell out in another language the story of how he had fallen in love. Only for it to be delivered to Taeyong in a flurry of tragedy and loss.

What a shame Jaehyun wouldn’t live to see its rejection.

Taeyong was crying. “I’m sorry Jae, I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, “I don’t know what to do, _I don’t know what to do_.”

Jaehyun attempted to lift himself up, arms shaking, throat aching, and petals still blocking his airways. He tried to apologize, to tell him that it was all going to be fine, that he was finally free. However, the words stuck in his throat, coughs taking over his speech capabilities.

“HELP!” Taeyong wailed, desperate and nearing hysteria, “PLEASE, HE NEEDS HELP NOW!”

It felt like too much and too little. One second, Jaehyun was being bombarded with pain and noise. The next moment, the chaos was replaced by a sensorial underload, similar to a static dial being turned down—

Everything turned to black.


	7. CATHARSIS

**CATHARSIS**

/kəˈθɑːsɪs/

_noun_

the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

“We are deeply sorry,” the doctor, who had exited what was presumably Jaehyun’s hospital room, said. “There is nothing we can do.”

No one replied and the hallway stayed the same. 

The silence was suffocating.

Sensing the tense atmosphere and with his lips pursed in pity, the doctor continued, “Hanahaki is a tricky disease, and carrying out the surgery at this stage is too risky.”

A few nurses running back and forth between the various rooms, a family huddled up and whispering in a corner, a child throwing a tantrum, and medical professionals passing by while concentrating on their clipboards.

“Besides, the patient has manifested his unwillingness to undergo the procedure.”

It was as if a rubber band had snapped back into place as most of the members let out outraged noises, too shocked to come up with a better response. Everything that had happened was too surreal, too painful to even imagine having to say goodbye to one member of their little family. 

“He... what?” Taeyong mumbled in disbelief. “No, no, no, no…” He shook his head and tugged at his hair. “I didn’t, I couldn’t… he wouldn’t do that. He cannot leave.” He was blinking rapidly, breathing irregular, eyes unfocused and spaced out. Doyoung grabbed Taeyong’s wrist and dragged him farther away, trying to calm him down. 

Johnny, serious and trying to contain the situation, asked what everyone wanted to know. “Will he be okay?”

The worst part was that, no matter what the next news would be, they had to go back to the dorms and act as though one of the pillars of their castle hadn’t just collapsed due to ignorance. 

“Considering the circumstances, he’s stable,” the doctor faltered in his speech, contemplating his next words, “…for now.” 

It hurt. Hearing the confirmation of one of their biggest fears coming to life, hurt. They were aware of the fact that the past couldn’t be changed and if the idol life had taught them something it was to shake off the rubble and swallow the grief. Because soldiers had to go on, no matter how long it took for the war to end. So, they all took a deep breath and trudged into unknown territory, shields prepared and bracing for the worst. 

Johnny looked at Taeyong, at their leader who was usually all bright and strong, standing a few feet away from them, eyes devoid of everything but heartbreak and exuding hopelessness from every pore. A captain mourning a fallen soldier. 

The rare image sent alarms blaring into his head and he decided it was time to take matters into his own hands. 

“Can we see him?”

_Please, please say yes._

The doctor scanned their faces and after some consideration, sighed, “I advise you not to crowd him. If you could go in one at a time, that would be wonderful.”

They all nodded eagerly and after a small discussion, Johnny stepped away from the others. That was answer enough for the expert, as he started to lead the taller man to one of the doors.

Maybe not everything was lost, maybe they hadn’t been too late. 

Inside the room, although the voices were muffled, Jaehyun picked up parts of the conversation. 

He knew what was coming. 

And he didn’t like it.

\---------------

Light footsteps indicated that someone had entered the room and yet, Jaehyun’s eyes stayed glued to his pale and somewhat trembling hands. He had just taken off the oxygen mask and if he looked, even just a tiny bit, as bad as he felt… it wouldn’t be a pretty sight.

He felt the person come closer, his gaze focusing on what he recognized as Johnny’s trainers, and outwardly winced. There were a few blood splatters on his shoelaces and light grey joggers. 

“You know Jaehyun,” Johnny stated, stiltedly calm and controlled, as though wondering about the weather. “I’ve had it.”

Of course, he had had it. Jaehyun had been expecting this moment and it had finally come. A little late, a little too intense, but still hitting him like a storm in the middle of the desert. 

“Hyung, listen—” he tried to explain yet he caught sight of Johnny’s disappointed frown and faltered. His heart pounded faster and blood rushed to his ears. 

He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up so bad. 

Johnny squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand over his face in frustration. “You lied to me, you told me you were going to confess knowing that you would— you wouldn’t be—” Johnny’s voice cracked and he deeply inhaled before whispering despairingly, “—how could you?”

Indeed, he’d made a mistake. What a surprise. 

_It will all be over soon_ , he wanted to say, _you won’t have to worry about me anymore_. But, there was a chasm lodged over his heart spreading into untrodden paths and twisting out of sight, warning him. Thus, he settled for the second-best thing he could say like he always did.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” Jaehyun exhaled, “but I’m not sorry for protecting all of you.” 

“Protecting us from what exactly?” Johnny questioned, lips pressing tightly with pinched confusion.

The shame, the guilt, the self-hatred gnawed mercilessly at Jaehyun’s heart. It all zeroed in on his lack of effort. All the stupid fights, the broken trust, the extra practice hours… All of Taeyong’s tears and rising stress… It had been his fault. 

“From myself? From blaming yourselves?” It was the obvious answer. There was always going to be one better than the other, one that was simply not enough and this time it had been him.

Johnny crossed his arms and allowed himself to fall back onto the chair beside Jaehyun’s bed, his stance was predatory and intimidating.

“And yet, here we are.” 

Damn, Jaehyun had never felt more inadequate.

“I don’t understand.” He really _didn’t_. Nothing made any sense. “I tried, I swear I did everything in my power to make sure that this never happened.” The words tumbled from his mouth without filter, urgently pleading to be heard. “Hyung I— I did all I could to protect you. I distanced myself, I hid my bruises, I showed you that you can go on without me.”

Akin to ashes scattering in the wind, Jaehyun’s memories unleashed a tornado of _pain, pain, pain_. Driven by the agony he finally asked for the missing piece for everything to make sense.

“You— you don’t need me so, why are you still here?”

A beat of silence. 

“You see, that’s where you’re wrong,” Johnny said and his features softened, “we need you, we can’t go on without you, no matter how much you like to think the contrary.”

Jaehyun scoffed at the ridiculous notion. “You’ll be better off without me dragging the group down… look at how happy Taeyong can be with someone else.” He gifted his Hyung with a stoical turn of the lips. “You can all be if you give yourselves the chance to let me go.”

“That’s not how it works.” Johnny’s expression reflected much more hurt than disappointment as he pointedly looked at Jaehyun. “You should know that better than anyone.”

“Don’t say that,” Jaehyun whimpered and wrapped his arms around himself, shaking his head. “Don’t you dare say that when I’ve seen how happy Taeyong is. I won’t take that away from him.”

“And I’m not asking you to!” There was a flurry of movement and Jaehyun felt the other’s hand on his shoulder. “But you weren’t there Jaehyun. You don’t have the right to say Taeyong doesn’t care about you, not when you didn’t see his reaction after you passed out.”

Poison seeped onto his thoughts as he envisioned Taeyong crying because of him. A poignant image of his leader staring at him wide-eyed and scared just before Jaehyun lost consciousness resurfaced in his mind and he wanted to drown. Where had the blazing hope of a thousand suns gone? When had the flames scorched the ground to leave the world in shadows? 

“Is he okay?” Jaehyun murmured, fearing the answer. 

Johnny squeezed his shoulder and gave him a small smile. “You should ask him that yourself.” His Hyung stood from the chair and patted his hair gently. “It’s not too late, Jaehyun. You can be brave; you can make amends; just keep in mind you cannot let your clouded judgment dictate what makes him happy.”

And with that, Johnny walked out.

\---------------

If Jaehyun were to ever be asked what torture was, he would’ve answered something along the lines of unrequited love. Like watching the love of your life fall for someone else, or maybe breaking from the inside out because a forest was blooming in your lungs as a form of desertion. A perpetual cycle of coughing and wheezing instead of breathing, the taste of blood eerily familiar after being stripped to the wire, barely hanging on.

Yes, there was no denying that Hanahaki had been the massacre of his faith and dignity. 

Now, however, if Jaehyun were to be asked that same question his response would be that torture was watching as Taeyong walked towards his hospital bed looking like an utter wreck. Puffy face, red-rimmed eyes, splotches over his cheeks, and the occasional sniffle were enough for him to conclude that Taeyong was in a miserable state.

How could have everything spiraled so out of control? 

Gasoline spilled over Jaehyun’s ribs, expanding in its toxicity and setting aflame the wilderness of his emotions. He was burning, fading, oxygen depleting as spring was exterminated by embers of unanswered prayers. Jaehyun felt the urge to put the oxygen mask back on, which was soon replaced with an aching throat as he hacked a full-bloomed cyclamen, dripping scarlet. 

In a few strides, Taeyong was by his side. He whispered comforting words in his ear but Jaehyun’s mind was too jumbled, bones rattling from the coughing fit; instead, he focused on the warm fingers rubbing soothing circles on his cold back. It was nice, something to hold onto before his sanity slipped away.

A damp cloth was pressed to his twitching palm and he startled at the unexpected sensation. Oh… Taeyong was cleaning his fingers and face from traces of blood, delicately, patiently and so inherently sweet. A wave of nostalgia rolled over his stomach as he watched Taeyong hesitantly discard the flower. This wasn’t how Jaehyun had pictured saying goodbye, even if the rejection was so blatantly there. 

There was another sniff, a breathless cry and, finally, Taeyong rested his eyes on Jaehyun’s face. His watery gaze traveled over every single feature to examine it, as though committing it to memory, fingers absentmindedly smoothing down his cheeks and circling where his dimples would appear when he smiled.

“Hi,” Taeyong murmured while he subtly patted Jaehyun’s thigh. It was a request for him to scoot over and let Taeyong snuggle to him as close as possible. Jaehyun knew Taeyong needed the comfort, needed to make sure that he was there, alive and breathing, so he complied. 

Once Taeyong was all settled, head beside his on the pillow and hand cupping his jaw, Jaehyun responded meekly, “hello.”

There was a pause, a moment in which they lay side by side and lost themselves in each other. Jaehyun stared at those bright eyes, wanting nothing more than to lean in and connect their lips. Temptation threatened to tumble into his chest, bittersweet and alluring, strong enough to leave him dazed but not to forget the sense within him that was torn and broken, begging to break free.

Perhaps Taeyong was a mind reader, or too much of a kind soul, because he suddenly asked, “can I kiss you?” 

It was too good to be true. This kind of thing never happened to him. Not ever and much less now. It had to be a prank, a twisted joke, there was no way Taeyong would ever look that certain and determined over kissing him.

Jaehyun blenched and covered his face with his hands. “Why? What are you trying to prove?” He huffed out disparagingly, struggling to keep his emotions in check. It was a vain attempt.

Taeyong had always been too kind and selfless. Maybe… he was sacrificing himself to save Jaehyun?

It made sense. Taeyong putting others over his well-being wasn’t unheard of, and Jaehyun wasn’t going to be the exception. In a rush, bitterness coiled over his head, scorching and boiling his veins, making him want to combust. Everything was all wrong, warped, and broken. It had all come back to stare right back at him as though saying _look at you’ve done._

And he stood there and took it. Naked and vulnerable, open for the world to see how he was crumbling from his mistakes because blaming himself was insufficient, begging for forgiveness was not enough and it would never be. He needed to cry and shout, to bleed and fight, anything to feel human again. 

Yet, he couldn’t. 

He felt so drained. 

“Look at me, Jae.” Taeyong tugged at his hands but Jaehyun shook him off.

Flashes of flowers and crimson. A wretched sob. Big doe eyes brimming with tears. He couldn’t take it.

“I don’t need your pity.” 

Taeyong’s breath hitched, a mixture of heartbreak and fear. And like that, his frustration dissolved into a low simmer. Jaehyun didn’t want to see his Hyung like that. Ever. Not in a million lifetimes. 

“Is that what you think this is about?” There was an underlying message, a wound spelling ‘do you really believe I would stoop that low?’

The terror of it all was sending pangs through his chest, it made his frazzled emotions sky-rocket and he knew that he wouldn’t like whatever was coming next. It had always been about logic and plans, statistics and probabilities, the path that would hurt Taeyong the less. Jaehyun preferred reason because it made sense, but how could he fit emotions in the equation when they simply didn’t add up? 

It was easier to put himself in the line of fire if that meant that Taeyong’s heart would be safe. Emotions were complicated, scary, so much bigger than him and anything he could give. Jaehyun only knew how to break, he had mastered the art of folding over himself to gift his closed ones with a safe path. He polished his bones into steel, turned his features into marble, curated and calculated his model the closest to perfection it could ever get. But when subjected to enough pressure, steel bent; after a while, marble dulled out and perfection never existed.

And whether he told Taeyong or not, it was going to hurt. There was never a road to salvation, never a choice that wouldn’t lead to pain. Two choices. One truth, one lie; both tilting at the ends of a double-edged sword. Jaehyun just had to decide which one was less sharp, which stab would be less deep. He’d seen enough blood to know the answer.

Jaehyun surrendered and lowered his hands, all the while being aware of how he was placing his heart on Taeyong’s palms.

“No. I know you’re not like that.” He blurted out, every word ringing with honesty. 

_I'm here, and I’m bearing my soul to you._

At last, Taeyong smiled at him. Shy and ecstatic, everything centering around the happiness rooted in his chest encouraging the flowers blooming into every part of him. It was like watching the sun rise, peeking and unsure at first but then it raised high into the sky, full of confidence and power, illuminating the entire world, bringing it back to life. It was inexplicably gorgeous, addicting and so bright Jaehyun had to close his eyes to avoid being blinded. 

This, right here, is the beauty of spring, of petals and love, Jaehyun thought.

It started with a touch to his closed eyelids, quick and nearly imperceptible, Jaehyun assumed it had been part of his imagination. Until they were all over his face, Taeyong pecking everywhere he could reach, smile pressed against soft skin. 

“I’ll ask again,” Taeyong looked at him teasingly, a hint of nervousness in his voice, “can I kiss you?”

They held eye contact for about three seconds and Jaehyun could see nothing other than honesty and a reassuring openness reflected on Taeyong’s expression. The air was kicked out of his lungs but it wasn’t like the past, asphyxia couldn’t touch him now. No, it was astonishment, all-consuming emotions in his blood as if the man above him had put Jaehyun under a spell and he was powerless to stop it. So he nodded, compelled by his beating heart once more.

Everything happened so fast.

Lips on lips, instinct over rationality. Jaehyun world was flipped upside down, he couldn’t comprehend what was happening even though he’d known in advance, had consented and all. But Taeyong’s mouth was so warm and pliant against his, akin to temptation brushing over his fingertips, and this time, he didn’t hesitate to grasp it. Before Jaehyun processed it, one of his hands was grabbed and he proceeded to entwine his fingers with the much smaller one. 

It was surreal. Like he was watching everything through a fogged-up window, vaguely identifying what was on the other side, judgment too blurry to truly tell. What did this mean? What was Taeyong doing? 

So many doubts ... so many questions still unanswered but, god, if this was his last and only kiss with Taeyong he was going to make it count.

Hands clutched at the hem of the leader's shirt, pulling at the fabric as Jaehyun pressed himself even closer to the other man, aligning their bodies so there was no space between them, and even then, craving for more. 

_I can't get enough of you._

There was a muffled sob, the taste of salty tears on their tongues, and Jaehyun wasn't sure about who was crying anymore. The kiss turned desperate, all open-mouthed, nails sinking in pale skin, lack of air an incomprehensible concept; a promise of sorts. No place to run to, it was only the precariousness of Jaehyun standing at the top of a cliff not knowing what the murky waters at the other end meant. Yet, he couldn’t hold himself back and he pulled away to whisper over Taeyong’s mouth his most priced secret. 

"I love you."

The table was set, the cards shuffled and handed out. Every man left to fend on their own. It was just ironic that Taeyong was always there, had always been there, shielding Jaehyun’s back from any sudden attacks, trusting the other to do the same. So maybe it wasn’t one against the world, maybe destiny got tired of playing games and gave him one more chance... maybe he could finally hope for requited love. 

It wasn't nighttime, Jaehyun couldn't hide behind warm bedcovers or in the reassurance of his Hyung being asleep. It wasn't like the last time he had said it. It didn't need to be. It was all new, exhilarating. A novel territory that Jaehyun had yet to discover, with so many insecurities and doubts, and even then, that didn’t stop him from feeling all giddy inside, heart so full it was about to tip over and burst right there in its cavity. 

The maze of vines wrapped around his lungs wouldn’t let up, getting tighter and tighter the more the silence stretched. Still, Jaehyun couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He felt every bruise, every liana replacing his vocal cords, every piece of fallen pollen sticking to the words that were out in the open. Three words for every petal spilled, for the blood that soon enough wouldn’t keep him warm. His garden would flourish and perish, consuming his soul but leaving a mark behind, so pretty and painful, all for Taeyong. He smiled at that, his vision blurry due to the tears at the corner of his eyes.

Jaehyun let out a sigh, that sounded more of a mix between a gurgle and a scoff because of the sudden difficulty to breathe, before giving in to the hands still around him. Taeyong had stayed, and he could die with that, with the lack of a confession back. At least, his last breath, the last of his existence was going to be spent with the love of his life. What a way to go. 

He was so dizzy and his eyelids were so heavy. He wanted to sleep, let the flowers settle peacefully, and go with the image of Taeyong smiling at him as though he had brought him the moon and the stars.

“Don’t close your eyes, Jae. Please, keep them open for me, yeah?”

Jaehyun couldn’t pinpoint when it started but there was a sudden commotion, his head being lifted from the soft pillow and moved to what was Taeyong’s lap if the way he could see his favorite eyes above him was any indication. Jaehyun caught sight of Taeyong’s scrunched up face, the trembling of his lips, and the first glimmer of tears rolling down his cheeks and clinging to his chin. Taeyong was breaking down in front of Jaehyun and he didn’t know what to do. 

“Hyung,” he called, weak and confused, like the hand reaching to cup the other’s jaw, “why —” a cough and sharp inhale, “—why are you crying?”

“I-I’m sorry, _I’m sorry,_ ” Taeyong wept, “I couldn’t- I didn’t tell you and then you were gone—” he continued to ramble, fingers digging onto the back of Jaehyun’s head as he brought him up to touch their foreheads together, “—you were _gone_. You weren’t _breathing_ , and I thought I had lost you.”

“Tae—”

“No, just hear me out.” Taeyong interrupted with finality. “These last couple of weeks, I’ve observed you, I’ve seen you slowly lose your spark, I’ve seen how you bottle up your feelings so tight and give us your most radiant smile even when you’re breaking inside. The thing is I… I never lost sight of you, not for a second. And you’re good at hiding, I’ll give you that.” Taeyong shook his head fondly and caressed his brow as he sorted through his thoughts. “But, I wanted to be there for you and you were so out of my reach. I thought giving you space was what you wanted, I let you do this to yourself and I’m sorry.”

Taeyong paused to compose himself a little more as Jaehyun let the words circle around his mind. “Jae,” he cleared his throat, and “I did something that you should never do to the person you love and for that, I apologize.”

Wait-

“What?” Jaehyun uttered, dumbfounded. 

Taeyong came closer and rubbed the tips of their noses together in an Eskimo kiss. “I said I love you too, Jae.”

Jaehyun gasped as a sense of rightness settled over his beating heart and for the first time in what felt like ages, the flowers inside his ribcage thrived and bloomed, petals stretching towards the outside to caress the bruises embedded in his soul. 

He could relax onto Taeyong’s hold and let the sweet lullaby of a thousand “I love you’s” soothe the pain and dazedness. 

“Don’t leave,” Jaehyun pleaded while tugging Taeyong flush against him. The angle was somewhat awkward for the little peck on the lips he ended up giving Taeyong, but really, it just made the whole moment seem even more real.

“Never,” Taeyong promised.

Perhaps that was all it took, a little help, an extended offer bathed in honeyed reassurance for Jaehyun to breathe again, to resurface from the depths of the sea and embrace the garden of his heart, welcoming the growing flowers and the comfort of the sun, knowing deep within that no matter how much they grew, Taeyong’s love would nurture them for them to give life, not take it. 

They had always been a juxtaposition of familiarity, of emotions embedded within their souls but, oh so real, surging from the bond they had built over the years and getting sturdier, golden, becoming an unbreakable foundation. And like that, thorns turned into roses, pain into pleasure and bleak hopelessness into the first remnants of pure unadulterated delight. 

Jaehyun was home.

\---------------

The sound of the shower running and the smell of Taeyong’s shampoo greeted Jaehyun as he entered his lover’s room. It was part of his routine now and the familiarity was enough to help his stiff muscles relax after the unending practice they had had that day. He sat on the edge of the bed and observed the polaroid collection hanging on the wall. There were new ones, mostly recent ones of Taeyong and him smiling broadly to the camera, arms wrapped around each other.

Jaehyun sighed and enjoyed the happiness bubbling over in his stomach, warming him up from the inside out, until he felt it tingling in his fingertips. He closed his eyes and grinned, feeling a little drunk from being so deeply in love. Taeyong stepped out of the bathroom at that moment, towel over his shoulders as he turned towards the closet in search of a shirt. 

Once he found it, he discarded the towel somewhere in the bathroom (probably hung it back on a perch or something, knowing how organized he was) and with the shirt still in hand went to sit over Jaehyun’s lap, straddling his hips in the process. The younger caught Taeyong around the waist, one palm splaying over his naked back and drawing aimless shapes over the pale skin. He nuzzled over Taeyong’s collarbone and pressed little kisses as he trailed towards his chest, and more specifically, towards the rose tattoo resting over his heart.

“I never coughed flowers for you,” Taeyong had said when Jaehyun asked him why he had gotten the tattoo, “but this rose, it represents the garden I couldn’t grow and yet, I feel within me every time I see you.”

Jaehyun was left speechless that night. 

“It fits you, the rose,” he said now, “it is so Taeyong. I like it.”

Taeyong chuckled at that and pressed his fingers lightly to the thin scar over Jaehyun’s chest, the one that he had gotten due to the removal of petals that had to be done after all.

“It’s yours so you better like it,” Taeyong mumbled as he drew Jaehyun closer for him to press his chin on top of his head.

“I love you.” Jaehyun’s lips stretched into a smile against his neck. 

He had had enough of wanting and never having, of breaking and never mending, of wishing and never achieving. Jaehyun let go and allowed himself to free fall into the uncertainty of the future— he wouldn’t have to face it alone. 

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> And, this was it, it's over and I don't know how to feel. 
> 
> I'll start this off by saying **thank you** so much for everyone who has patiently waited for this update. It has been five months but I really wanted to give this fic the ending it deserved, which was incredibly difficult. However, and I cannot stress this enough, thank you for waiting for me ❤️.
> 
> I hope the wait was worth it and you enjoyed this fic as much as I did writing it. Thank you to everyone for your comments, your kudos and just _everything_. It really helped in keeping me motivated and focused.
> 
> As always, if you have any questions or simply want to talk, you can reach me on:
> 
> Instagram: [@irxdiscent](https://www.instagram.com/irxdiscent/)  
> Twitter: [@irxdiscents](https://twitter.com/irxdiscents)
> 
> You can always message, I love hearing from you all!


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